


Getting to the Top

by StarsInTheRiver



Series: GTTT [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alien Sex, Anal Fingering, Bondage, Double Penetration, Drugged Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gags, Gender Issues, Genderfluid Character, Group Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Games, No sex between brothers btw, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Piercings, Power Imbalance, Punishment, Sort Of, Tentacle Dick, Torture, Vaginal Sex, all the gender stuff is in chapter three so you can skip if you want, and these tags are just for the last chapter which is kind of darker, i know theres more but i cant think of any other tags, its not really as dark as it sounds i dont think, loki takes it well, non consensual thorki, two kinds of dp but im only tagging once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsInTheRiver/pseuds/StarsInTheRiver
Summary: I know everyone and their mom is writing about how Loki won the Grandmaster's favor so quickly, but sue me, it's fun to think about. Not 100% porn but you probably wouldn't read just for the plot either. Prince of Asgard parties a little harder than he was prepared for, but he's a near-immortal god. He'll be fine.I wasn't sure if the dubcon was mild or not, but I'd steer clear if it might be an issue for you.Note: last two chapters are less run-of-the-mill porn than the first two but have warnings at the beginnings.





	1. Chapter 1

It hadn’t taken him long to understand how things worked on Sakaar. He’d seen the glittering city as he fell from the sky, and made it within the walls without arousing suspicion.

He’d been drawn immediately to the games, and found himself in the crowds that first night with his eyes sweeping the upper stands. By the time the sun rose the next morning, he had a room in the massive tower. A few carefully choreographed appearances at social functions he'd not been invited to, and by the end of the second day he found himself enjoying the view from the Grandmaster’s favorite ballroom, keeping careful track of the man himself as he flitted around the room from distraction to glittering distraction.

It wasn’t hard to get his attention from there. He placed himself strategically on a couch near a few of the Grandmaster’s favorite companions. His clothes were well fitted and his hair was pinned perfectly into place, his smile charming, and it took less than a minute for him to catch the eyes he wanted.

“And who is this?” A drink in one hand and and the other loose on his lap, the Grandmaster draped himself over the couch beside Loki. He fluttered his eyelashes suggestively.

“Loki.” He smiled sweetly and reached out to take the hand extended to him. He let his fingertips and his eyes trace their way up the flawlessly manicured hand before pressing it gently to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He managed to keep the Grandmaster’s attention on him for an entire seventeen minutes. Maybe not a record, but certainly impressive for a first try. And that evening, after the party was over, he received notice that he had been assigned a new room closer to the top of the tower.

The next morning, Loki awoke to find an invitation tucked among an array of expensive fruits on a tray by the door.

 

 **Join us. 9:00**.

 

Directions to the tower's main hangar were written in shimmering blue ink on the back. Loki turned it over in his hand with a grin. He’d enjoyed himself so far, but here was where real fun started.

There was a crowd of about a dozen when he arrived that night, which in itself was deeply flattering. He had caught the tyrant’s favor, clearly.

The Grandmaster didn’t make them wait long, waiting for them in a ship that looked like it cost more than half the people on Sakaar put together would make in a month.

The lighting inside was dim, and the furniture had an ‘expensive but easy to clean’ sort of feel to it. It was a ship designed for… physical relations. Loki seated himself near the back, partially behind a hanging curtain of lights. He’d been fully prepared for this, and his goal was now to not seem too eager. He’d captured the attention of the most powerful man on the planet- now he had to make sure he could keep it that way. He didn't know when he'd be getting off this planet, and he would prefer to spend his time here watching from the top.

He made small talk with some of the others as they moved away from the tower and over the city. Most of them had been here for decades, it turned out, and Loki was the only who had arrived within the past year.

“I suppose a man like him can't help having good taste,” he said with a smirk, throwing a glance to the side where he knew the Grandmaster was relaxing. He found himself being watched, and hid his pleased smile as he turned back away.

The lights dimmed further as they left the city, and already there were a couple people starting to get handsy over in the corner. Tired of waiting, Loki allowed himself to flirt with the socialites around him. They were attractive, certainly, and a nice distraction until a warm weight on the couch beside him alerted him to a new presence.

“Would ya look at that, nobody got our guest a drink?” The Grandmaster was close, his words tickling Loki’s ear and his chest warm against his back. “How about I fix that.”

Loki took the drink that was pressed into his hand and turned to face his host. “Much obliged,” he said with a smile.

The Grandmaster leaned comfortably into the couch, his eyes fixed on the man in front of him and his drink pressed to his lips. “So, Loki.” He drawled the name like he was testing it out. “When did you arrive on my lovely planet?”

“Recently enough.” He took a sip of his own drink and winced. “What is this, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Just a little something to help you relax. My own recipe, trust me.” His fingers traced lightly over Loki’s knee.

He nodded and leaned into the couch, but he held the next sip in his mouth for a moment. Lots of alcohol, but other ingredients too. Some plant based, some made in a lab, each one of which he’d used himself at one point or another. A cocktail of aphrodisiacs and sedatives with some sensory-enhancement thrown in, blended with what tasted a bit like raspberry juice. Not a concoction he was familiar with, but one that seemed more than agreeable.  
He closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the steady thrum of the music and the feeling of the Grandmaster’s fingers running over the outside of his thigh. He was not used to just letting things happen like this, but he knew it was what the situation required, so he forced any uneasiness away. This should not be a difficult thing to enjoy.

“So where do you come from, Loki?” The Grandmaster moved a little closer to his prey, reaching in to play with the ends of his hair.

“Ever heard of Jotunheim?”

“I have not.”

Loki took another, longer, drink. “I’m from there. A prince.” Not fully a lie, but he didn’t feel as though letting the Grandmaster be aware of his true position was wise. Asgard was a powerful place, and he didn’t want to risk losing control because he was decided to be too valuable to be allowed to wander. “Do you get many princes here?”

“A few. But none in recent memory have been quite so… cute.” With that, the Grandmaster slipped his fingers across Loki’s neck and over his jaw to pull him close and lightly kiss his cheek. Instinct told Loki to pull away from the sudden force, but he only smiled and relaxed into the grip. He had assumed he would be pulled out of his comfort zone somewhat, and was prepared for it. He leaned back so his shoulder brushed his host’s, downing a quarter of his glass before tilting his head back against the couch. He was very aware of how his throat was exposed to the man above him, even more so when fingernails scraped gently from his collarbone to the tip of his chin.

“Slow down on the drink, gorgeous, if you don’t want our fun to end early.”

Loki smirked and leaned up to take another deep drink. The mix was strong, but it had been served under the assumption that he was mortal. It took more than a little alcohol to take down a god.

“Alright. Suit yourself.”

The Grandmaster wasted no more time pressing his mouth to the pale skin before him, a well-practiced tongue flicking against the shadow of his jaw and up towards Loki’s ear. The prince closed his eyes again and relaxed into his touch, letting his own hand move to rest on the thigh nudging his own.

The Grandmaster took his time, exploring his new prize with hands and mouth as Loki slowly finished his drink. By the time the empty glass had found its way to the floor, the buttons on his shirt had been thrown open and royal blue nails were raking themselves down his torso. Loki, despite himself, was half hard in his leather pants. There was absolutely no question that the Grandmaster knew what he was doing here, impressive even to the more than experienced Asgardian. When he spoke again, his lips were pressed to the younger man’s ear.

“Strip.”

Loki found himself doing as he was asked with hardly any hesitation, lips parted and his pupils blown wide as he tugged at the sleeves. It had been barely twenty minutes since he’d taken his first drink, but his skin was flushed and warmer than the cool spaceship had any right to be making him. It was a heat that extended into his brain, giving his thoughts a blur almost like alcohol. Almost.

He dropped his tunic to the floor, but the Grandmaster’s hands stopped him before he could undo the clasp of his pants.

Loki's eyes quickly swept the room. He wasn't the only one who was less than decent- the pair that had been kissing had stripped completely, and more than half of the others were missing an article of clothing or two. The air in the ship seemed to shimmer with color that persisted even when he blinked, and Loki wondered for half a moment if he’d missed something in his drink. He lifted his head, the question halfway out of his mouth- and he cut himself off with a deep groan as the Grandmaster pushed his hand under the waistband of his pants. He wore nothing underneath, and the touch was electric like nothing he'd ever felt before.

“Feels good, doesn't it? That'd be the punch.” His hands kept stroking slowly in his pants, which were quickly starting to feel uncomfortably tight. Higher up, his teeth were back at Loki’s jaw, biting and whispering. “now, I wasn't quite sure what you actually were. So I didn't know exactly how strong to make the drink. But, I'm a good guesser.” His hand wandered even lower, and a second groan escaped through the prince’s clenched teeth. “And besides. You seem like a man who can handle his substances.”

His fingers were slick, somehow, although he hadn't pulled them away, and when he pushed them inside, Loki’s hand shot out to scrabble at the Grandmaster’s robes and his jaw fell open as the air escaped his lungs.

He'd been touched this way often enough throughout his life, but he’d never known it to be like this.

“What… what substances specifically, if I might ask?”

The Grandmaster laughed. “I told you. My own recipe.”

He slipped another finger in, and Loki forgot his questioning in the wave of sensation that overtook him.

“Whatever you are, you're very pretty. Mind if I tie you down? Just a little bit.”

Loki found himself nodding, and his arms were tugged to the sides and cuffed to the couch. A quick tug told him that the built-in restraints were strong, but soft. He could break free with some effort if he chose. But the Grandmaster’s fingers were becoming more and more distracting, and he let any concern about the drink or the cuffs slip away and relaxed into the couch.

A silky fabric was tied around his eyes by a set of hands that did not belong to the Grandmaster, and when Loki tried to open them he found it blocked the light completely. While nobody would ever call him less than adventurous in bed, he had never enjoyed being unable to watch those around him and he immediately reached for his magic to tug the blindfold away. But it stayed in place. He tried again, fists clenching at nothing and tugging on their cuffs as his sluggish, sensation-filled brain refused to obey him. He began to try a third time when a wet, hot mouth on his bare stomach dragged his attention forcibly elsewhere.

“I don’t-” He gasped when the second pair of hands returned to thumb at his chest, but recovered quickly. “I don’t _love_ the blindfold, if we could just-”

He cut himself off again with a tightly clenched jaw and a choked, high pitched groan as the grandmaster’s fingers started fucking him harder, deeper.

“Come on beautiful, leave it on for me. You look so pretty like that,” the Grandmaster crooned as he pumped his fingers faster, moving his other hand to grasp the cock beneath him and beginning to stroke in time with the thrusts. Loki forgot how to object. His arms and shoulders strained at their bonds and his legs twitched as he bit his cheek to keep the moans inside. They escaped regardless, as whimpers and gasps.

“Doesn’t he look good?” Several people murmured in agreement, and Loki might have felt embarrassed if he’d had the presence of mind. “And so fun to play with. I think I’ll keep him.” He kept his hands moving for a moment before changing his tone to something a little rougher. “You ready to come for me, baby boy?”

Loki’s only response was to thrust his hips into the Grandmaster’s grip, but it was apparently an adequate one. The hands in question picked up speed, and the only thing in the god’s mind was how good they felt, how badly he wanted them to keep going.

And they did, pushing him until he finally came with a sound adjacent to a growl. The metal chain connecting his cuffs to the couch actually stretched nearly a half inch from his tugging before he fell back weak and panting for breath onto the cushions. His head felt like a jellyfish tank lit with fluorescents, colors and energy and heat blending around inside him until he wasn’t quite sure where he was, only that he was floating.


	2. Chapter 2

It took Loki almost a full minute for him to come back to his senses. Or at least what was left of them- between the blindfold and the cloud in his head he had a less than perfect approximation of his surroundings. The hands that had been touching him were gone, but he could still feel the weight and warmth of the Grandmaster still sitting to his left. He was speaking quietly to someone else, his attention having somehow drifted from the half-naked god he had tied to his couch, but when Loki shifted uncomfortably it quickly returned.

 

“How’re we feeling? Regretting ignoring my advice about the drink yet?” His tone was light and teasing, as were his hands as they ghosted over his torso.

 

Despite having had only a single glass of the concoction, Loki felt as if he’d lost a drinking contest with Thor, and the swirls of pulsing color he was seeing behind the blindfold were getting stronger by the minute.

 

“Not at all,” He said with a smile.

 

“Oh, good.” The Grandmaster moved closer, and Loki could hear that he was smiling too. “I was hoping we would be able to play a little more.” His tone sent chills down the prince’s spine. It was hungry, predatory, and for an entire half of a moment Loki was almost nervous.

 

Somebody behind the couch was fumbling with the cuffs that held him down, a hand on his back pushing him forward so they could be fastened together behind him instead.

 

In the relative clarity of having gotten his release, Loki remembered how little he liked being restrained. The blindfold felt as though it was smothering him despite only gently covering his eyes, and the need to destroy his bindings was becoming unbearable. But his head was still heavy with fog- maybe even more so than before- and although he tried again to make sure, magic was still beyond him. He might have been able to physically tear apart the chains, but that would do nothing to help him keep the Grandmaster’s favor. That was, after all, his only real goal here.

 

The need to please his host left him only one option, and he gritted his teeth for only a second before tilting his face sweetly as he could towards the man beside him.  
“Don’t you want to see my eyes this time? I would think you enjoyed being looked at.”

 

“You think so, hmm?” The Grandmaster’s hands were at his chest again, playing with him as though they weren’t mid conversation. “Maybe, maybe. What would you do for me, _if_ I decide to take it off?” Loki could hear the smile in his voice, and annoyance twisted deep in his gut. He didn’t like being toyed with.

 

But the Grandmaster liked to toy, so he let his voice slip lower. “What would you like me to do?”

 

Instead of replying, the man beside him stood. Annoyed at being ignored and frustrated at how helpless the ties and the drink made him feel, Loki had to force himself not to sigh. He could hear whispering, then hands were pushing him up off the couch and across the cabin. They turned him around, pushing him down and off balance, and he found himself falling back onto a clothed lap with his arms trapped behind him. He could smell the Grandmaster’s perfume and feel the priceless silk of his robes against his bare shoulders as he fell against him, and the hands that were starting to feel familiar immediately went back to their touching and petting.

 

“Here, somebody-” The Grandmaster murmured. A bystander responded to a silent signal, and his pants were finally tugged away. “There we go. Isn’t that better?”  
His head was resting on the shoulder of the man beneath him, putting him in the perfect position for the Grandmaster to lightly kiss the side of his forehead when he spoke. The gesture felt mocking, and his stomach twinged again in displeasure.

 

He still felt hazy and heavy from the drink, but the longer he went without being touched the easier it got to sort through his opinions on the situation. His arms were starting to hurt where they were pinned between him and the Grandmaster, and he shifted on his lap to try and get comfortable.

 

“Shh, shh, hold still for me.” Fingers ran down his sides, sending shivers through him, and the Grandmaster took the moment to spread his legs so that Loki was lying between them. His own legs were nudged apart, and he realized very suddenly that there was a person standing over him. Bare skin rubbed against the insides of his thighs as they moved closer, and he had to bite his lip to stop a gasp when slick fingers returned to his recently-lubed ass.

 

The Grandmaster threaded his fingers through Loki’s hair, almost caressing him before his grip tightened painfully and tugged. Unprepared and thrown off by the probing fingers below, the god whimpered softly.

 

The Grandmaster laughed, and Loki could feel his breath against his ear. It sent another shiver through him, and it took effort to keep himself from squirming.

 

“Would love to test you out myself first, but, well. I lost a little bet.” The Grandmaster might have sounded almost apologetic about it, if he’d managed to keep the lust out of his voice.

 

The person above him laughed, in a voice much deeper than the Grandmaster’s, and something unfamiliar and slick brushed up against his inner thigh. Loki realized with a jolt that he wasn’t on Asgard anymore. These people weren’t all Aesir, or even necessarily anything close.

 

But if he had any misgivings, they were irrelevant. The winner of whatever bet he’d been gambled in was pushing in, and it didn’t feel _bad_ , just so unlike anything he’d ever felt, smooth and flexible and weirdly strong, that he didn’t have any chance at all at holding in the breathy moan it pushed out of him.

 

“Oh, he _likes_ that.” The Grandmaster sounded amused, but Loki couldn’t bring himself to care. The stranger was still pushing in, cock getting slowly thicker as it worked its way farther in, and the way it moved inside him was beyond overwhelming. He hadn’t realized his mouth had fallen open until the Grandmaster’s fingers pushed in to play with his tongue. “You look so pretty like this, all open for me.” The cock was getting deep, the wiggling, probing tip pushing further into him than anything had been in quite a while, and Loki whimpered again around the fingers. The Grandmaster laughed again. “Oh boy, he’s gonna wreck you, isn’t he? Not even all the way in yet.” The glee in his voice was terrifying. His fingers tugged Loki’s jaw open as far as they could. “I wanna hear you,” he murmured sweetly, fingers casually probing deeper into his mouth. Then, in a very different tone to the man above them- “Fuck him harder.”

 

He had absolutely no problem obeying that command, shoving the rest of his cock into Loki without further fanfare. For half a second, it was so deep he was scared to breathe. Then the alien began to fuck in earnest, and he forgot about breathing entirely.

 

With the Grandmaster’s fingers still holding his jaw stretched open there was nothing he could do to hide the sounds he made each time it bottomed out hard. Vaguely, he was aware of the Grandmaster pushing his own erect member into his hands, still bound behind his back. Each thrust of the man above him shoved him an inch or two up, giving just enough friction for the Grandmaster to hum in approval.

 

“You have such soft skin, I just love it.” He thrust his hips lazily into the loose grip, one arm wrapping around Loki’s torso to pull him closer and grind against him even as he was still being fucked. “I bet- I bet you’re even softer on the inside, though. I bet you feel so good.”

 

Suddenly, the alien stopped thrusting, and large hands were lifting him up off the Grandmaster, turning him around without pulling out until he was laying facedown on the alien’s chest with the cock still buried fully inside him. In this position it felt even deeper, and with the thrusting stopped he was intimately aware of the way it was squirming for friction inside of him, still trying to push further in. Loki muffled a whine against the warm, solid chest he was now resting on. This was a much different creature than the Grandmaster, but something about it was almost comforting. _He feels like Thor_ , his brain supplied, but he shoved that thought down before it could take root.

  
He was almost relieved when hands on his back pulled him out of his thoughts.

  
He became immediately less so when slippery fingers started rub the place where the alien cock was splitting him open. Thicker by half than any Asgardian cock he’d ever come across(albeit with more give to it) the thing already had him achingly stretched, and when one finger pressed experimentally at his rim he shook his head in protest.

  
“I can’t-” he started, but the words vanished on his tongue as the digit shoved all the way in in one firm motion. Only a huff of air escaped him. A second finger stroked lightly, and panic rose in his chest. “Please, I can’t-”

  
The digit vanished, and the Grandmaster rubbed his lower back, shushing him softly. “Alright, calm down, it’s ok.”

  
The alien beneath him shifted, and almost six inches slipped out of Loki. For a moment, it was a relief. Then three of the Grandmaster’s fingers pushed into him without warning, stretching him just as much as before and forcing a choked sound from the god.

  
“I was right. _So_ soft.” The fingers pulled out, and before Loki could realize what he was doing he had his cock lined up and was pushing in with a groan.

  
The stretch was agonizing, pushing the breath from his lungs more effectively than a foot of alien dick ever could have and completely silencing him. Every muscle tensed but trying desperately to relax enough to take it, he lay perfectly still until the Grandmaster’s hips were pressed firmly against him.

  
“Oh, that is just. That is _delicious_.” He thrust once, shallow but hard, and Loki whimpered. It hurt, but his cock was painfully hard against his stomach. The chemically-enhanced pleasure was just as impossible to ignore as the pain.

  
“Alright. Enough foreplay, I think.” The Grandmaster leaned forward to thread his fingers through Loki’s hair, tugging just hard enough to hurt before he began to thrust.

  
The hand in his hair pulled his head back, keeping his mouth open for the room to hear how he moaned and keeping him from hiding his face. The Grandmaster fucked him harder than the alien had, and although his cock was a more manageable size the double penetration meant that it certainly didn’t feel that way.

  
What he could feel, however, was each stroke pressing hard against his prostate. The Grandmaster knew how to use his dick, and after a few moments a hand slipped underneath him to remind Loki just how skilled he was. Loki found himself trying to thrust into the grip, and the Grandmaster hummed in pleasure as the motion had him pushing back onto their cocks.

  
“You can- ah- you can fuck him a little now.” Loki wasn’t quite sure who he was talking to until the alien beneath him moved. Not his body, that stayed still and solid beneath him, but the length that been only halfway inside began to thrust slowly deeper. Loki, his mouth still open from the grip on his hair, let out a keening sound from the stretch.

  
“Good, very good.” The grandmaster’s voice seemed distant, but the hand on his cock kept stroking. “Almost there, come on…” And he was right, Loki was close. Heat was building in his gut, and the men fucking him(gods, the alien cock was only getting thicker) felt like heaven. He _needed_ it, needed them to keep touching him-  
And the hand on his cock stopped.

  
“You wanna come?” The Grandmaster’s hips continued to move as he spoke, and Loki could hear the grin in his voice.

  
“Y-yes,” he choked out.

  
“Beg.”

  
Behind the blindfold, his eyes snapped open. He absolutely would not beg, not here, not to these nobodies-

  
The Grandmaster’s fingers stroked him gently, and he couldn’t control the whine that slipped out. It was so good, and he wanted it so badly, but he couldn’t. With some effort, closed his mouth.

  
“Oh, now that won’t do.” The hand immediately vanished, and Loki wanted to sob from the loss. He thrust his hips weakly against the man beneath him, but found himself immediately pinned still. The Grandmaster clicked his tongue condescendingly as he continued to fuck into him, putting his weight onto the god to keep him from getting any friction. “You ask for it, nice and pretty, or you don’t come.”

  
One particularly hard thrust against his prostate had him groaning, but he kept his teeth clenched. He was a god, a king, he wouldn’t plead for his release like a whore.

  
“Stubborn little thing, isn’t he? A little harder, he can take it.”

  
He’d assumed that the alien had been fully inside him at this point, but he had apparently been mistaken. The alien thrust in the rest of the way, stretching him beyond what he’d previously assumed his body was capable of, and started fucking him without restraint. Had his arms not been bound behind him, Loki would have clung to the body beneath him. As it was, he could only gasp and writhe and try to keep himself from falling apart completely.

  
The way the man could fuck him without moving his hips ensured that Loki continued to get no friction on his aching cock, and the pressure was becoming unbearable. He was grinding, trying desperately to get enough pleasure to scratch the itch, but the Grandmaster had him pinned too well.

  
He was almost crying before he couldn’t take it any more. The cock beneath him thrust in hard, all the way to the base, and the word was forced out of him like he’d been struck.

  
“Please, please-”

  
“Oh, there we go. That wasn’t so hard, hmm?” The weight vanished off his back, and the Grandmaster’s hand immediately slipped back underneath him. His hand was firm and warm and smooth, and Loki was immediately on the verge of release. He thrust his hips into the grip, but he couldn’t get any more friction than the Grandmaster wanted him to have. He groaned high-pitched through his teeth, frustrated and desperate.

  
“Alright, alright, calm down…” The hand holding his hair released, but that did nothing to help him finish. Loki pressed his face against the chest beneath him, using the new range of motion to rut harder into his hand. “Ask me again. Use my name.”

  
There was no hesitation this time. “Please, Grandmaster.”

  
“Please what?” He sounded so incredibly pleased with himself, Loki might have been annoyed if he’d had the room in his brain for it. As it was, he had barely enough to do what was asked of him.

  
“Please let me come, _please_ -”

  
“Alright, go ahead.” The hand tightened, sped up, and his entire world shrunk to his hips as he came hard onto the alien’s stomach. He was vaguely aware of the sound of his own voice, embarrassingly high pitched, and of the feeling of the Grandmaster finishing inside him.

  
Both men pulled out after a few more moments, leaving Loki slumped across the larger one's chest. His arms were untied, and the blindfold slipped off, but he found himself not particularly caring even as large hands rearranged him. He’d been expecting to be moved, but the alien only sat upright, keeping Loki on his chest and stroking his back gently. He was warm, and the contact felt good in the post-orgasm haze. Despite himself, the god pressed his face into the crook of his neck and let his exhausted body relax. It wasn’t cuddling, he told himself. He was just too tired to move. But when the large arms held him closer, surprisingly gently fingers petting at his hair, he maybe didn’t mind it as much as he would have liked to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have more ideas for this, but a guy's gotta pass school before he writes porn. Honestly though I've definitely got at least another chapter in me, and in a week I'll be on break, so let me know if you'd like to see more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Similar themes to the last two chapters with some gender stuff thrown in there.

“Oh, come on, for me? Do it for me.” The Grandmaster ran his hands sweetly down Loki’s chest, and it almost made up for the hungry smile on his face.

Loki, naked, arms bound tightly behind his back as he straddled the older being, cleared his throat nervously. “I don’t know-” he started, but he was cut off almost immediately by the Grandmaster’s fingers pressing firmly against his lips.

“But _I_ know.” He reached up from where he was lounging against a pile of cushions to stroke Loki’s hair. He had bathed the god himself several hours back, and had refused to let him slick it back. It now hung in soft black waves around his face, and much to Loki’s annoyance the Grandmaster seemed unable to keep his fingers out of it. “And, obviously, I know how _badly_ you want to be good for me.”

Loki, well versed in the art of subtle threats, closed his eyes with a soft sigh. “Of course.”

His magic was heavily muted by the sweet pink concoction the Grandmaster had pressed to his lips not a full hour before, but this didn’t take much at all. Not a trick or a disguise, just a little shift, natural as holding his Aesir form.

“Oh _my_ … absolutely gorgeous.”

He ran his hands once more over the body in front of him, lingering this time in the places where Loki had changed. Breasts pushed out by the elaborate knots (tied of apparently enchanted rope; they tightened almost instantly when their captive’s arms slimmed) made easy targets, and the Grandmaster pinched at them until Loki winced. He might not have hated it under normal circumstances, but even the heavy buzz of the strange drink wasn’t enough to mask the discomfort of letting anyone touch a part of his body he had taken to keeping largely private. There had never been more than a handful of times throughout Loki’s considerable lifespan where he’d not been able to wear the form he pleased, and although he was perfectly at home in each it was an unfamiliar and not particularly pleasant sensation to have to move his body in dissonance with his mind.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the Grandmaster let out a heartfelt sigh. “Unfortunately, and really it is quite... unfortunate,” he paused here, taking a long moment to feel up Loki’s chest hard enough to bruise, “ but, it’s not exactly what I asked for.”

Loki frowned down at him, pulling his shoulders forward as much as he could in an attempt to look less sexually appealing. Difficult, he admitted to himself, when one is tied naked on another’s lap.

The owner of that lap shook his head sadly. “I love this, I do, but my exact words were. Ah. What were they again?”

There was a long pause, and Loki stared down at him incredulously. “I don’t _know_ ,” he said, a mocking eyebrow raised. He had a moment to enjoy the way that made him feel. Then, he had several much longer moments to regret it as the Grandmaster gave a small shrug and reached for the small bag that had so far laid untouched beside him.

“Well, let’s see if I have anything to jog your memory, hmm? Maybe fix that attitude up a bit while we’re at it.”

The hand not rifling loudly through a collection of ‘toys’ reached up to absently comb through Loki’s hair. He realized, somewhat numbly, that it was significantly longer. He hadn’t intended to make any aesthetic changes beyond the necessary, but it was an old habit. He quickly pressed his lips together to be sure he hadn’t accidentally applied lipstick.

“Ah. _Here_ we are.” As he spoke, the Grandmaster tightened his grip on Loki’s hair hard enough to draw a hiss, tugging him around to look at what he pulled from the bag.

He couldn’t quite tell what it was at first- about eight inches long, stick-thin and glowing except for the handle- but he could guess when the Grandmaster swung it through the air with a whistle so fierce Loki could almost feel it.  

The pain of having his hair pulled was quickly forgotten, his focus needed elsewhere as he started trying his hardest to recall what the Grandmaster’s exact words had been.

“How about we give that another shot, hm?” The Grandmaster settled himself back into his cushions, and in the same motion brought the toy down across his captive’s breasts. Loki made a sound that was not quite a scream, kept from pulling away by the hand still buried in his hair. “I wouldn’t even _care_ , really,” the Grandmaster said conversationally, bringing the toy down again across the precisely same path, raising his voice slightly over Loki’s choked whine. “It’s just that you had to be such a _brat_ about it. Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of a brat?”

Loki exhaled shakily, almost like a laugh. “It’s been suggested.”

“Well, we can work on it.” The Grandmaster brought the glowing whip down once more across the same line and set it aside as Loki tried and failed to hide his scream behind a clenched jaw.  

“Now. Do we remember what I asked?”

“You wanted to lie with me-” He stopped, breath forced out of him in a gasp as the Grandmaster brought his bare hand down hard onto the now-bright red streak.  

“My exact words.” He reached again towards the toy.

“Yes, ok,” Loki said, a little more quickly than was dignified. “You. Ah.” He hesitated again, and the toy turned on with a menacing hum. The words spilled out, vulgar and bitter on his tongue. “You wanted to fuck a tight little godling cunt.”

“Ah! look at that! I knew you could do it.” The toy went silent again. “Now, I like the direction you took with it, but, like I said, not what I asked for. And you know how much I _enjoy_ getting what I ask for.”

As he spoke, his hand had been moving steadily down Loki’s stomach, and on the last word two of his fingers slid without warning between their bodies and into him.

“Ohh, nice and tight.” Loki’s lips twitched in displeasure, but stayed silent as the Grandmaster fingered him. “Now this, this is what I wanted. Maybe we can play with the rest later.” He pinched playfully at his nipple, and Loki got the hint. He was perfectly aware the Grandmaster had used a confusing phrasing on purpose to find an excuse to hit him, but he was so relieved at being allowed to switch back that it didn’t seem to matter so much.

He relaxed somewhat as soon as he transformed. Even bound, he felt just slightly safer in his usual form. It felt unnatural to leave a piece unchanged, but even if he’d tried to rearrange his nether regions with the rest of his body he would have been unsuccessful. With the Grandmaster’s fingers still inside him, he was stuck.

“How long since someone’s managed to get in here, hm?” The aforementioned fingers wiggled, making it clear exactly what he was referring to.

It had been some time- nearly a century at this point- but there was no way he would give the Grandmaster the satisfaction of knowing that. “A year or so, perhaps,” he said instead.

The Grandmaster raised an eyebrow, not looking up from what he was doing with his fingers. “How many people?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. How many people have, uh, tried you out?” The Grandmasters eyes flicked briefly up to look at him, and Loki flushed when he saw the laughter there. He was playing with him, trying to make him uncomfortable.

“Fourteen, if we’re only counting the ones I let fuck me. Nearly forty if we’re not.”

The Grandmaster wasn’t thrown for a second. “Very nice, very nice. Lift up with your legs a little now, here…” His hands guided Loki’s thighs so that he was kneeling above his lap. “Anyone ever treated you like this before? Did the prince of Jotunheim ever let anyone tie him up and push him around?” As he spoke, his fingers moved back to fuck him even harder than before, the new angle giving him more leverage.

“Yes,” Loki said truthfully.

“Ooh. I like that. Was he as much fun as I am?”

“She, most recently, and that really does depend on your idea of fun.”

The Grandmaster raised an eyebrow. “Oh, have I not been _fun_ enough for his highness?”

Loki had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “That is certainly not what I m-”

The hand that wasn’t occupied between his legs had wandered down to his left knee, where it then chose the middle of his sentence to dig in hard and pull his leg up and across the mattress. The Grandmaster was stronger than he looked, and Loki found himself pulled very suddenly onto a cock he hadn’t noticed being lined up.

Thanks to the (considerable) skill his host had with his fingers, he was wet enough for it. But it _had_ been a while, and the Grandmaster hadn’t done much to stretch him out. Loki bit his tongue to hold back a gasp.

The Grandmaster closed his eyes and made a sound of satisfaction. “ _Very_ good.” He bounced his hips, fucking up into Loki who keened softly. “Oh, you like that?”

Loki shook his head, but gasped out, “yes, Grandmaster.”

“Good boy.” He patted his chest once, then went back to moving his hips. At this angle, Loki could feel his cock bottoming out inside him, hitting some sensitive barrier with every thrust. It hurt, more than he could pretend to enjoy, and after a few moments he shifted his weight to try and regain some control. Riding the Grandmasters cock may not have ideal from the perspective of his pride, but it certainly was easier on his insides.

It didn’t seem to bother the man beneath him, who groaned with pleasure and grabbed Loki’s hips. “ _Ohh_ , there we go, you’re so needy for it. Good boy.”

Loki did not appreciate the praise, or the affectionate pat on his hip. Regardless, he kept moving with only a small frown slipping briefly over his features.

They both fell quiet then, and for several minutes the only sounds were the wet and rhythmic slapping of Loki rising and falling on the grandmasters lap, and the heavy pant of his increasingly strained breathing. With his arms bound behind him, all the effort was left to his legs (the Grandmasters fingers dug almost painfully into his sides, but did nothing to help him) and even with godly stamina they started to ache terribly after only a few minutes. By the time the Grandmaster finally spoke, his thighs were trembling.

“Alright, take a little break for me, sweetheart.” Loki slumped down, panting, and the Grandmaster needed very little strength to pull him flat onto his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of his prisoner’s head, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. “You wanna lay there for a minute?” Loki nodded, not even opening his eyes. “But. You still want to be good for me, right? Make me feel nice?”

There was a moment more hesitation than before, but after a beat Loki softly gave an “of course.”

“That’s a good boy.” There was a note of pleasure and excitement in his voice that hadn’t been there before. Loki lifted his head to look him in the eyes, and he didn’t like the smile he saw. The Grandmaster took him by the hair, tugging him gently down and pressing his still-panting lips to his left nipple. “Lick. Let’s see that clever little mouth in action, hm?” Loki did, lightly at first, his back arched uncomfortably and his eyes fixed up on the Grandmaster’s face. He was still smiling as though he were unbearably excited to tell him something, and any apprehension the smile caused Loki only increased when he spoke. “Keep licking. No matter what happens, keep going. Can you do that for me?” His fingers ghosted down Loki’s spine, and the god shivered and twitched his head in a nod. “Good boy,” the Grandmaster said again.

He reached over then, back to his bag of toys, and despite the nervous energy rising in him Loki couldn’t see what he was doing without lifting his head.

“Alright, come on in.”

The Grandmaster was still grinning, mouth slightly open like he was waiting to speak. His eyes jumped back and forth between Loki’s face and the door that was now _creaking open-_

“Mm-mm, head down.” Loki had tried to catch a glimpse of whoever owned the boots he could hear clunking towards them, but found a grip in his hair stopping him and pulling him back to his assigned place. He tried again, this time resting his cheek against the Grandmaster’s chest to catch a peripheral glimpse, but once again found himself corrected. A single finger, scaly and slightly warm, ran from the top of his ass down to where the Grandmaster was still inside him. Loki gasped sharply, and the Grandmaster took the opportunity to pull his open mouth down onto the kohl-patterned chest beneath him.

“Lick,” he reminded lightly.

The finger, now slick, probed at his (still sore, but not recently touched) asshole, and the grip on his hair tightened.

Loki looked up, eyes wide as he realized very suddenly what they were doing. The Grandmasters cock, still buried deep in him, twitched at the sight of his fear. Loki looked very quickly back down.

The finger thrust inside, and he squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a moan. It felt good, it felt _so_ good, but...

“Grandmaster,” he gasped, lips still brushing the area he was meant to be attending, “I’ve never-“

“Shh, shh, you’ll love it, I promise. You’re gonna feel so good, you’ll feel silly for putting up a fuss.” The pain in his scalp vanished as the Grandmaster ran his hand tenderly over Loki’s hair. It felt nice, and he hesitated a full four seconds before opening his mouth again to argue.

He didn’t have time to do more than that before two things happened simultaneously. Behind him, one slow finger became two shoved very quickly to the base. In front, the Grandmaster’s temperamental hand pulled his head back up and he was slapped, hard, across the face.

His look of surprise was short-lived, wiped off by the next rough thrust of the fingers that seemed to have no intention of stopping despite the hesitation coming from the man they were preparing for sex.

“Loki,” said the Grandmaster, (not only did he sound annoyed, he was using his _name_ ) “I gave you some very simple, very easy to follow directions. Now, I don’t know why you’re having so much difficulty with this…” he trailed off, his eyes drifting back over to his bag of toys. Suddenly, Loki felt a lot more strongly about doing what to what he’d been ordered to do.

He tugged his hair from the Grandmaster’s hand to tongue at his nipple as best as he knew how, which was, he’d been told in the past, better than average. He looked up sweetly, flicking his tongue hard at a pace he would not be able to keep up for long.

The Grandmaster laughed. “There’s that energy I love so much.” He looked up to whoever was standing behind Loki, an expression on his face like he was sharing a joke. The Asgardian could feel himself flushing with anger at the insult of it all, but he was still quite aware of the hypothetical threat that lay in the bag beside them and so only dragged his tongue across to the other side of the grandmasters chest.

This got him another head pat of approval and another finger up his ass. He allowed the whine escape him this time, knowing how much the Grandmaster enjoyed hearing his lovers.

“I knew he could behave. Now, Loki, sweetheart?” He caressed Loki’s face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a way that might have seemed loving in any other context. “Since you were so, ah, rude to him a moment ago, I think you should ask my friend nicely to fuck you.”

Loki could _hear_ the smile in the Grandmasters voice and he could hear unease in his own when he replied, “I don’t know his name.”

“I think ‘sir’ will do. Ask him nicely.”

Burning hatred pooled in his gut- at the Grandmaster for humiliating him, and at himself for the heat that rushed between his legs at the command.

The hate was almost enough to get him to push back, but he knew that in the end he would end up doing as he was told. On Sakaar, one does as the Grandmaster wishes. He rested his forehead against the warm skin beneath him and closed his eyes. The fingers felt good, and he knew he could enjoy this if he could stop grappling with his pride long enough to relax.

“Please fuck me,” he rasped. “Sir.”

The man behind him wasted no time, and it was painful and strange and very, very good. The occasions on which he’d allowed someone to even be aware of his female anatomy had been so uncommon that he’d certainly never had a chance to feel two people inside him this way. The stranger had a decent sized cock, and he could feel it pressing up against the barrier that separated him from the Grandmaster’s. The sensation was mostly that of being full, with an extra ache that (thankfully) didn’t go quite as deep as before. It felt like whatever else was inside him was being shoved out of the way so they could use the space, and the sensation only intensified when the man behind him braced his legs against the bed and started moving. He leaned forward over Loki’s back, close enough that he could feel the huff of his breath against the underside of his pinned arms (his breath was cool, but the cock in his ass was warm).

“Now, pet-” the Grandmaster’s voice was completely even, with no sign that any of what was happening lower down was affecting him in any way-”I really don’t want to ask again.”

Loki could hear his hand slipping over the silk bed sheets, over to the left, towards the bag. Even through the panting behind him, and the whining huffs that seemed to escape him when he couldn’t keep his jaw clenched anymore, he could hear the metal of the toys clinking together as they were rummaged through. He didn’t lift his head (he wasn’t sure he could, not right now) but simply let his mouth fall open and licked sideways, eyes thrown up seductively before the Grandmaster could finish choosing a toy. He was met with a smile and a click.

Loki hadn’t even _heard_ him moving his hand lower, much less felt the toy before it was already pressed against him and buzzing. Small, pressed up against the place where the Grandmaster’s cock stretched him open, just close enough to his clit that he could _definitely feel it_ \- the thing was powerful. He moaned before he could stop himself, tongue faltering as he restrained from grinding back towards the feeling. The Grandmaster pressed down with it, and Loki cried out and ground shamelessly against him.

“There’s a good boy, keep licking…”

He did, tongue stuttering and eyes clenched shut as his hips twitched against the vibrator(against the cock that was still fucking him hard). He was almost fucking himself back on them both each time the Grandmaster pulled the toy back, but the sheer amounts of energy the thing was putting off had rattled his brain and knocked his pride out onto the floor somewhere.

“Please, please put it back-” The Grandmaster had pulled it just low enough that Loki couldn’t reach it and keep his mouth where it had to be, and he let the words slip out without thinking.

The surprised laugh from the Grandmaster was humiliating for a fraction of a second, then the vibrator returned and he didn’t care anymore.

He came twice like that, then lay there for several minutes more while the unnamed man finished, barely able to do more than keep his tongue out and let the momentum from each thrust drag him back and forth. The Grandmaster, despite showing almost no signs of having been enjoying himself thus far, came when the man did with a satisfied groan. Loki wondered, somewhat numbly, if he could get pregnant. He knew from experience there would be no changing back until he’d cleaned out the last of it, and that thought exhausted him more than he expected.

The man stayed like that, panting and going soft inside him, for less than half a minute before pulling out, putting himself away, and leaving at the same brisk pace he’d entered with. His bootsteps were sharp and businesslike.

Loki kept licking, closing his eyes now as he lay weak and damp with sweat on the Grandmaster’s chest. He hadn’t been told to stop yet. He could feel the Grandmaster’s eyes on him, and he could imagine how he was smiling smugly at the sight of his _pet_ finally too tired to argue and complain (the night before he’d gotten so fed up with him he’d shoved a gag into his mouth five minutes into the party, and he’d sat for hours silently fuming and trying not to drool while the Grandmaster and his friends made no efforts to hide how much they enjoyed seeing him quiet, docile, with his lips stretched open around the glittering sphere. Later, they’d replaced it with a gold ring and taken turns with his mouth under the bar).

“Alright, alright, you can stop.” Loki didn’t have the energy to get annoyed when he was patted affectionately on the shoulder. He didn’t have the energy to to anything but lay there, and to groan when when his arms were released from their tight bondage.  

The Grandmaster rolled him almost gently onto his back, finally slipping out of him with a wet sensation Loki decided he didn’t much care for. He could see through his eyelids when the lights dimmed, and off to the side there was the sound of a drink being mixed. He took it to mean the Grandmaster was done for the evening. He thought about going back to his own quarters, but when expensive sheets were pulled over his (very unwashed) body, he let the thought slip away. This wasn’t letting his guard down, just… a brief rest.

He woke the next morning to an empty room and a heart painted in glitter on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still having fun with this tbh so if anyone has any suggestions or ideas... I'm open. I have a few but maybe not enough for a full chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! So this got kind of darker. If you're worried about this story being right on the border of what you are comfortable with, turn back now, because this chapter grabbed the reins from me and ran off with them. Sometimes you just have to let it write itself or it won't get done, y'know?  
> Warnings. I wouldn't personally say its noncon, but I think you could very easily disagree with me about that. There is no actual thorki (no attraction whatsoever between siblings) but I would say it gets uncomfortably close to it. Tags have been updated too.  
> (It’s probably not as bad I’m making it seem I just like to be careful about this I’ve definitely been yelled at for not tagging it before)

He’s kneeling somewhere dark and smoky. He can hear voices around, laughter, the clinking of glasses, but he can’t see anything except the thick purple carpet and the glittering blue of the Grandmaster’s robes. His head is clouded with liquor and strange pills, perhaps more so than it had been since he’d first experimented with intoxicants as a boy. He feels light and empty headed, absolutely relaxed. Relaxed despite the collar around his neck, despite the fact that he’s wearing  _ only _ the collar- he’s so far gone that the Grandmaster’s hands, one holding him by the hair and the other by a taut black leash, are a comforting presence. He leans his cheek against his host’s knee, exhausted from some recent activity he can’t quite recall. 

“What scares you?”

Loki blinks his eyes open and tilts his head questioningly.

“Well, earlier I asked you if there was anything I could do that would actually, ah, freak you out.” The hand in his hair is stroking absently now. “You told me, you weren’t drunk enough to answer that.” his nails run down the side of Loki’s face to his chin, pulling him suddenly upright. “You seem pretty drunk now- although if you’d like, I can have someone bring you another…?” He starts to lift his hand, looking around as if for a waiter or a slave.

“I am quite drunk, thank you.” The words almost slur on his tongue, the effort of separating them like dragging it through honey. 

“Oh, good.” The Grandmaster sounds as though he’s received some very relieving news. “Tell me then.” He tugs firmly on the leash, pulling his pet closer between his knees. “What scares you?”

There was a reason not to tell him, Loki knows that much. But every thought in his brain is like a fish slipping from his hands as he drunkenly tries to grab hold, and he can’t quite focus anything except the presence in front of him, the Grandmaster petting his hair and asking so persistently. He wants to tell him, he wants the relief that will come with doing as he’s told, and maybe the relief of sharing something weighing on him. 

He scans his brain quickly for a compromise, something truthful that couldn’t be used against him. 

“Chitauri,” he says eventually, leaning back against the inside of the Grandmaster’s thigh. Mostly dead, as far as he knew, and definitely not on Sakaar. Not without a mothership nearby. 

“Interesting,” says the Grandmaster. He does sound interested, more than Loki feels he should be comfortable with. The thought doesn’t catch on the liquor-slicked surface of his mind, though, and the night moves on.

 

* * *

 

If there was something that was never in doubt on Sakaar, it was that you don’t get away with crossing the Grandmaster. Punishments generally took the form of being melted down, but if he was particularly fond of you you might get off easy with some kind of public beating or humiliation. He often got quite creative with them, and in the past few weeks Loki had seen more than enough to know that his best bet would be to have an escape plan at the ready. 

As it turned out, he should have had a better one. 

It could have been worse, what happened. He’d seen people murdered for less serious infractions, but the Grandmaster had been requesting his presence more and more and was clearly not ready to give up his toy yet. 

He’d been caught sneaking a look into the computer system, then been caught again when he tried to escape the crime scene. He tried twice more while being marched towards punishment, and before he was shoved to his knees in front of the Grandmaster an obedience disk had sunk its claws firmly into his neck. 

Every muscle in his body had been tensed as he’d crouched there, waiting, ready to fight for his life. He would not die like all the others, sitting docile for the melting stick like a stunned cow. 

“See, I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay out of trouble. I said it, I told Jinn, that one’s gonna be trouble. Didn’t I?” There was a quiet  _ yes sir _ . “Ah well. I never could resist a pretty face. Get over here.” He snapped his fingers at that, beckoning Loki closer. With no melting stick in sight, Loki shuffled forward a few feet. Better not to piss him off more.

“Anything to say to me?”

“I’m sorry, Grandmaster.” Loki had seen many of these apologies, he knew what was expected of him. “I was only curious, I meant nothing by it. Please, allow me to make it up to you.” 

“Why run if you meant nothing by it?” The Grandmaster leaned back in his seat, sipping at his drink like he wasn’t in the middle deciding a man’s fate. Loki’s blood turned to ice at the disrespect, but he kept his head ducked.

“I was afraid, I was foolish, and I’m sorry. Please,” he said again, swallowing his pride like bile, forgive me.”

The Grandmaster smiled, and Loki knew he would survive this particular episode. “Of course I’ll forgive you. I’m a very forgiving man, you know this. But... “ He sounded deeply regretful, almost hesitant. “I just can’t have people sneaking around behind my back, breaking into things willy nilly. You understand, don’t you? Weren’t you a, uh, king at some point?”

The words turned his vision red at the edges, but Loki remained kneeling and still. “I understand.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. That’ll make this easier, I really think so- you understanding why I have to punish you.” There was a pause while he took another sip, and when he continued he sounded much more at ease. “You’ll have to wait in the dungeons, of course, while I think of how best to do it. Can’t have you trying to leave on us again.” With a wave of his hand, Loki found himself being pulled up and back, out of the room and towards the base of the tower. He couldn’t trick the guards with a double, not with their hands on him and the disk on his neck. He couldn’t fight, at least not yet- without a way out he would be overwhelmed in minutes. He gave bribery and subtle threats his best shot, and managed to get both the guards on his left close to folding, but in the end there were too many of them for it to do any good. They reached the dungeons, where thankfully he had a cell to himself. There was no reason to make this situation any more unpleasant by mingling with the worst of the universe’s cast offs. 

He considered sending a projection up to the room where he knew Thor had been left as an offering to the Grandmaster’s champion. The idiots would no doubt have settled their differences by now, and would surely be working on an escape plan. In the end he decided against it. He would be out before too long had passed, and if he could escape to join Thor on his own terms… well, it would be preferable to asking for help. 

He remained in the cell for twelve hours, and fell asleep half upright in the corner midway through hour six. He dreamed about punishment- the ones he’d seen, the ones he’d experienced, and dozens more provided by his imagination in anticipation of the next day.

 

* * *

He awoke hazy-headed and naked (as he so often found himself waking these days), and bound to a polished stone bench in a room very different from where he’d fallen asleep. He blinked quickly, trying to shake the tail end of whatever they’d drugged him with as he scanned the room. The deep blue walls seemed to glitter and spin, and there was no way of knowing how much was just him. There were figures, hard to make out in the dim lighting- that is, the dim lighting beyond the lamp that hovered blindingly at the foot of his bench. Behind it, if he squinted, he could see a glint of the Grandmaster’s favorite blue and the small red light of some kind of camera. The chains on his wrists and ankles were loose enough that he could sit upright, although it made his head spin to do so. He felt less vulnerable that way, although he knew that was unrealistic.

“Look who’s up!” The Grandmaster’s delight was clear. “Now, I have to apologize for making you wait so long, but trust me, it’ll be worth it. For us, of course,” he added. The crowd laughed. “No, no, I’m joking. I’m sure you’re  _ very _ grateful. I bet you were just out of your mind in that cell, thinking about all the things a crueler man might have done if he thought a trusted member of his court was betraying him. Weren’t you? Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Grandmaster.” The words tore at his throat, and he coughed. He needed water, but it seemed unwise to ask. 

“I could… I could have melted you down on the spot, or put you in the arena. Maybe against my champion, hm?”

Loki felt his shoulder twitch, an automatic fear response. A low laugh from the Grandmaster told him it hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“But I like to think I’m a good ruler. Generous, forgiving, you know. I like to give second chances.” Loki’s skin tingled as a source of magic in the room surged, but the Grandmaster just  kept talking. “Another thing I like to do that I think makes me an  _ excellent  _ ruler- do you know what it is?” He paused for a reply.

“No.”

“I- I meant for you to guess. I know you’re bitter about being punished, but please, try and play along. The answer, Loki, is that I know how to  _ entertain. _ ”

The magic in the air surged again, and Loki shifted uncomfortably on the bench as several shadows moved towards him out of the crowd. The small red light began to blink. The camera was recording. 

He reminded himself that whatever happened here today, whatever ended up immortalized on camera, the chances of it ever leaving this garbage planet were so slim they were basically nonexistent. What happened here would not follow him back out. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he was staring directly into the hissing, grinning face of an unarmored Chitauri soldier.

He didn’t scream, but he knew the fear on his face as he gasped and jerked away would be just as plain as if he had.

They weren’t real- they couldn’t be- and he repeated that on a loop in his head as sharp and familiar hands grabbed at him. He snatched his arms away and kicked out, but the chains retreated suddenly into the bench and left him pinned firmly on his back (the stone was cold, and he slammed against it with enough force to bruise).  

A Chitauri slid between his splayed legs, laying heavily across him and sliding it’s claws up his sides with a hiss. 

Loki lay his head back onto the stone, panting, eyes clenched shut. It  _ wasn’t  _ Chitauri, he knew it for certain now, he could feel the hum of the illusion magic against his skin and he knew from intimate experience that Chitauri did not play with their prey. 

That really shouldn’t have made him feel much better- he was still going to be fucked, likely beaten, definitely humiliated, all on camera for who knew what audience. But it did, just a little. Just enough to make himself relax and stop fighting the chains. 

The Chitauri apriritions felt and sounded accurate to his memory, but he (thankfully) had no way of judging the accuracy of the thick, ridged cock rubbing against his cheek. Although, if there was anyone in the galaxy who would know about chitauri genitalia it would be the Grandmaster. 

But even he wasn’t perfect, and it was a constant calming reminder how humanoid they were in movement and action. The fingers that pried open his jaw were by no means gentle, but the claws drew no blood and there was a focused precision that no chitauri soldier would be capable of. A familiar metal ring was pushed between his teeth, buckled tight enough that the leather dug painfully into the sides of his mouth. 

“Now, remember, this  _ is  _ a punishment.” The Grandmaster’s voice had moved, and when Loki blinked his eyes clear he was standing to his left, the camera still beside him. They were both much closer, with a clear view when the Chitauri held him by the jaw and pushed with one firm motion into his open mouth. Loki couldn’t quite control his gag reflex, from the position or the depth or from being caught off guard. Off to the side the Grandmaster kept talking. 

“We can’t have you enjoying yourself. You’re such a little  _ slut _ , I’m sure you’ll love it anyways, but…”

The Chitauri between his legs was touching his cock now, and Loki choked around the one in his mouth at the sudden electric pleasure. He hated this, hated the whispering crowd, but somehow their eyes on him made the Chitauri’s cold and methodical touch a hundred times more intense. It lasted only a moment before cold metal and an ominous click signaled the permanent replacement of the hands with a decorative cage. It took everything in him not to whine with frustration, need prickling in his gut despite himself. 

“There’s a good boy. Maybe we’ll take that off later, hm? If you can keep being so good.”

The Chitauri between his legs was lining up now, and the unfamiliar texture had Loki squirming against the stone when it pushed inside. He was vaguely aware of the Grandmaster laughing again, but some combination of fear and drugs and lack of oxygen had him too lightheaded to do much more than lay still and relax and try not to lose consciousness. The creature by his head hadn’t backed off at all, and it was all he could do to keep his throat relaxed and open for the cock intermittently cutting off his air supply. It was beyond too much, but he was without options. He could take it, or he could take something worse. Likely, something much melt-ier. 

They were large, both of them, probably designed specifically by the Grandmaster to be impossible to enjoy.  _ Sounds like a challenge _ , he found himself thinking. And then, immediately after, found himself considering the possibility that he was delirious from stress and lack of air.

* * *

He’s crouched on the bench, his face tilted up towards where the Grandmaster stands above him, glittering and dreadful as always. He’s panting through an open mouth and leaning towards the older being, away from the shadowy figure behind him. The figure had been beating him, or maybe fucking him, or maybe both, but now it stands still except for the hand it uses to drip whatever hellish liquid the Grandmaster had passed him over Loki’s back. It barely pinkens his pale skin, but it burns like chilled acid where it drips down his spine and sides and thighs. It feels like venom, like jellyfish stings, but he refuses to let a single sound slip out.

_ Alright, place your bets,  _ the Grandmaster had announced, walking up to run his hand down Loki’s body- still thoroughly occupied at the time with the Chitauri projections.  _ How long until we get our, uh, proud little prince here to scream? _

Loki had tensed at that. The Grandmaster had patted his stomach fondly, then crouched down low beside his head. Seemingly unaffected by the fact that the younger man was busy choking down an alien cock, he’d whispered,  _ I’ve got seventy thousand units on you lasting an hour, a quarter million that you won’t last three.  _ Then he’d threaded his fingers through Loki’s hair and kissed his cheek. 

That had been about two and a half hours back, and the Grandmaster had spent that time flitting from torment to torment, throwing in bets randomly as the ideas came to him. Loki had spent it refusing to make a sound.

_ Forty thousand if he cries _

_ Fifty if i can make him finish _

(That one he’d won relatively quickly with ten minutes and a buzzing, phallic bit of metal, but even then Loki had stayed silent. That had seemed to upset him, and they’d gone back to plain old lashing for a bit afterwards.)

_ One hundred thousand if I can make him beg _

That bet was the current focus of the Grandmaster’s efforts- apparently he thought he had a better shot at making him beg than scream. Loki wasn’t sure whether or not he was right, but it didn’t matter because he wasn’t going to do either today. 

Not that he wasn’t a little tempted. 

“Come on now, this doesn’t have to be so difficult. Don’t you want to rest? Don’t you want this to just… all be over?” His fingers ghosted over Loki’s face, and he felt himself trembling. Another long drip of burning liquid hit his back, and he closed his eyes and his mouth. He couldn’t help himself from leaning forward just a bit more, hiding himself from the camera and the unpleasantness against the cool fabric of the Grandmaster’s robes. He couldn’t bring himself to care how pathetic he looked with his face pressed up against the other man’s thigh, even thinking briefly that it would probably please the elder being at least somewhat. 

“Oohh..” The Grandmaster made an awful cooing sound at him, but Loki couldn’t lift his head back up. “You’re tired, aren’t you? You want a break from this part?” 

It wasn’t begging, it wasn’t even close, but the slight jerk of his head still felt almost as shameful.

The Grandmaster made the sound of mocking pity again. “I haven’t been very nice to you, have I?” He pulled Loki tenderly closer, close enough that he could feel his semi-hard cock through the fabric. It twitched against his forehead, and he shuddered as the gesture lost any comforting properties it might have had. “Alright, stop it. Stop- just-” He could feel the Grandmaster moving, then there was a clattering and the sudden relief that came when the burning liquid stopped dripping. “Come on, come on, you’re hurting him! No need to be cruel...” 

Loki would would have sobbed or laughed had his jaw not still been firmly clenched. There was no way of knowing which one. 

“Let’s give him- something nice. Yes, I think… yes.” The rambling was paired with the sound of movement behind him, but Loki couldn’t make himself care enough to lift his head and look. 

It wasn’t entirely surprising, and maybe a little relieving when he felt hands grab his hips. He was very sore, but not actually wounded. It felt almost good when the individual behind him pushed in with a groan. 

Loki grabbed a bit of the Grandmaster’s robe with his teeth, biting down to stop himself from groaning too. The Grandmaster pushed him backwards with a  _ tsk _ . 

“No, no cheating. I still want to hear you make noise for me, remember?”

As if on some signal, the person fucking him thrust deep, hitting something inside him  _ hard, _ and an almost imperceptibly voiced huff escaped him before he could stop it. 

He could barely hear the Grandmaster’s joy and praise through the blood rushing in his ears. The unseen person didn’t back off at all, and each thrust rocked him slightly forward towards the Grandmaster. Loki swallowed, clenched his eyes and jaw shut tighter than before, and tried to disappear into the rhythm of it. 

* * *

They were two hours and fifty-four minutes into the Grandmaster’s bet to make him scream. The quarter million he’d wagered wasn’t a thing to him and they both knew it, but the man didn’t like to lose. He really, really didn’t.

Loki had lost quite a few of the little challenges, but since his small slip he had kept completely silent despite the rapidly intensifying efforts from the Grandmaster to change that. He’d tried meditating, he’d tried enjoying himself, but the Grandmaster had caught on to and been displeased by both. Loki found himself now bound immobile, joins crossed and strained in an uncomfortable tangle of limbs that kept him so tightly pinned to the bench he could hardly breathe. It couldn’t possibly be attractive to anyone watching, but the Grandmaster didn’t seem bothered in the least. He was circling the bench, opposite the camera like they were a pair of vultures over the wreckage of a battlefield. His legs were splayed open, one folded back far enough that he could feel his own hot breath against his knee when he tilted his head up to look at the room. There was something burning and wriggling  _ far  _ too deep inside him, the limb of a creature out of his sight and outside of his knowledge of the universe. Whatever it was, it’s biological chemistry burned like peppers burn your tongue when it had caressed its powerful limbs over his body. He couldn’t see it, but it felt big. He felt in his bindings like a maiden left on an altar, a sacrifice for something ancient and hungry, and not for the first time he considered just snapping the chains and trusting in his ability to escape again and again from the ruins of the havoc he loved to cause. He would do it, if he were anywhere else, under the eyes of anyone else. 

He looked up to find those eyes close again, the Grandmaster a foot from his face. “You sure are stubborn, huh? I don’t mind that, that can be fun… but there’s a time and a place. You want to be good, make me happy, don’t you? Make up for the _awful_ thing you did to me?” He’d been running his nails slowly over Loki’s thigh and up his stomach as he spoke, but on the word awful his nails dug into a nipple hard enough to make the god’s breath catch in his throat. The Grandmaster made a tutting sound and immediately leaned down to kiss and lick it better. He repeated this a few times, each round of pain and pleasure a step above the last, until Loki was panting with his head pressed hard against the stone. The ruler of Saakar didn’t often give out this particular reward- a couple million years of practice left him absolutely unmatched with his tongue, but he generally preferred to be _served_ except by his absolute favorites. It felt very, very good, and even with his cock locked away and a prehensile limb shoved halfway through his body he found himself twitching just slightly up towards the mouth. 

This was noticed, of course. “Ohh, there’s a good boy, you like that?” Loki kept absolutely still but for the quick rise and fall of his chest, lips parted and eyes tightly shut. “Do you want more?” He still wanted him to beg. He  _ couldn’t _ , but he wanted nothing more in that moment then to feel that tongue again. There was a long moment- then he nodded, barely more than a twitch of his neck. 

The Grandmaster hummed, and slowly leaned down. His breath was hot, lips soft when he pressed a chaste kiss to the tender spot. “Nope.”

Loki almost broke then, nearly let a whine and a  _ please  _ escape him, but he didn’t. A soft, toneless sob as all that came even when the Grandmaster licked softly once more and pulled away. His fingers returned, but that was nowhere close to what he wanted. 

“You know what I’ve been thinking? Ever since I first saw them, I thought, wow. Now there’s some tits I can’t _believe_ nobody’s decorated. He pinched them again. “I want to. I’m going to. Don’t move...” 

Loki’s eyes snapped open just to narrow at the Grandmaster. The man was holding items that would have made his heart drop into his guts, had they not been otherwise full. How the hell he’d gotten them so quickly was beyond him, but he found himself not caring about it much as they were lifted for him to see. A needle and two rings, gold with glittering green clasps. 

“Your color, right?” He was grinning again. Loki looked from him to the rings, eyes wide and angry. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst thing that had been asked of him, and it would be simple to remove them and heal the damage later, but to be pierced and decorated like an expensive slave was too much. He shook his head. 

“Oh, you don’t like it? Well, just ask, we can do something else.” His tongue darted out past his lips when he smiled again. “Or do you want a different color? Anything you like, darling…” 

Loki almost laughed at him. He knew he had two options, to beg the Grandmaster as sweetly and loudly as he was prompted, or clench his jaw shut and take the indignity.

The piecing itself barely hurt. The still-red lashes across his chest and back burned worse. It was afterwards that was unpleasant, first the Grandmaster’s admiring, cooing words, then the sight of the rings glittering prettily through the tender nubs. He could feel them, unnatural and still slightly cold, and he watched as the man above him slowly leaned down to lick clean a drop of blood that had gathered. 

“That’s right. I knew you’d let me do that. You like a little pain, don’t you? But you’d let anyone do anything to you, just to prove you could take it. You’re so  _ proud. _ It’s a little irritating sometimes, I have to be honest, but uh. It’s much harder to take someone down a few pegs if they don’t already think they’re all  _ that _ .” He leaned close, teasing his tongue over the painfully new piercings. Three minutes, Loki thought. Three minutes until the bet was won. 

“Now, I’m  _ definitely  _ keeping this little film in my personal collection,” the Grandmaster said conversationally as he placed his hands tenderly on Loki’s chest, close but not quite brushing the rings. “But I am anything but selfish, it’s not just for me. We’re live, actually I believe- yes? Yes. Live to a number of bars, channels, personal rooms.” His nails scraped over the piercings, catching on the gem that held them shut and making Loki bite his cheek. He leaned close to whisper in his ear, “Does your brother like pornography? Do you think he’s watching?”

Loki’s lip twitched in the beginning of a snarl, but it was nothing more than a taunt. Thor wasn’t the type to bother with the sort of places this movie would be shown. 

“Oh, I bet he is. Not bad looking, your brother. I bet he looks  _ good _ sitting there in his room, touching himself, watching his  _ pretty  _ little brother writhing and crying and getting  _ fucked _ .” He flicked the left piercing but Loki’s jaw was clenched hard enough to dent Mjolnir. He didn’t make a sound. The Grandmaster’s fingers got a firmer grip, every slight movement magnified a thousand times from the open wound and the remnants of the drug and from  _ everything about this damned situation- _

The Grandmaster twisted the ring, hard, and Loki’s body shook with a silent scream. He didn’t pull at his restraints, somehow pinned in place by the pain in a way he hadn’t been before. He didn’t breathe, absolutely certain that any air that escaped him would let the sound out too. After a few seconds, it stopped, and his ragged gasps for air carried the barely audible ghost of a sob. 

“Actually…” The Grandmaster lowered his voice again, but more like a stage-whisper than before. The camera leaned in closer too. “I just couldn’t get that picture out of my head. And I just- i just couldn’t stand the thought that he might miss out on the show.”

Loki had closed his eyes against the pain, but they snapped open with fire to stare down the Grandmaster’s laughing ones. He looked like he was trying not to spoil the punchline of a joke with a preemptive grin.

“I’ve been  _ told _ he wouldn’t stop trying to destroy the forcefield I placed, averting his eyes, yadda yadda… latest update was that they had to put him back in his chair to keep him in front of the screen. A shame really, not giving him free reign of his hands.”

The Grandmaster still lost the bet, but he did manage to jump back quickly enough to avoid Loki’s teeth- the god snapped at him like an animal as he lunged forward, and fell to the floor like one when the chains stretched but refused to snap even under all his strength. 

Past the ringing in his ears, he heard Grandmaster laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked waaay too hard on this one, I rewrote it over and over for like a month. Feedback would make my day if theres a part of it you really liked or something. (I also am very open to suggestions for more Loki fic because I'm out of ideas but had a lot of fun with this)  
> This is probably the last chapter because I think I left poor Loki in a place where he could never happily have sex with the Grandmaster again. I might write another one like this though, just with a new plot. Thanks for reading!


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